Red
by N.D. Stark
Summary: It's eyes were brown. The brown of her friend. The calm, deceitful, gentle eyes of the shy scientist who lived in the same building as her, whom she talked to and a shared a coffee with every morning, whom would always offer himself up to help. The brown eyes of a man. (Age of Ultron. Slight Hulk/Widow, based on trailer Oneshot, thrown together in five minutes.)


It stood there, it's sinewy chest heaving from the strain of moving so long, the destruction that fell behind in it's wake.  
>She stared right back at it, her catsuit torn, pale skin glistening with a light film of sweat. Her red curls were matted and dirtied, but she didn't care. All she could do was keep her eyes glued to the beast as it stood before her. In the reflection of her irises it was even brighter green than it really appeared, making it seem a lush forest green compared to it's actual color, a sickening color.<p>

The beast's eyes turned to her, but she did nothing. She didn't move, she didn't even blink. She could hardly breathe as it drew slowly closer to her. It's shoulders were drawn back, the tips of the blades causing it's back to seem jagged, almost goblin-like in the dusty air. It drew itself ever close to her small, shivering form. She let out a shattered breath.  
>She wasn't brave.<br>No. Not at all.  
>She wasn't trying to stand up to the creature.<br>No, she wasn't even scared.

She was absolutely terrified.

The last time she had seen something so terrifying up close was when the monster itself was chasing her down the hallways of the flying warship, sparks bursting and glass shattering loudly behind her, it's angry roar trapped in the depths of her mind. But now, the creature was quiet, peaceful even. It was usually filled with rage, demolishing anything in it's path, leaving a wake of destruction and ruin. She used to go about her life in a similar way. No one knew her name, but _they_ knew her face, and when they saw it they screamed or ran. But now it was the creature's turn to have a reign of terror. Now it's own ledger was dripping red, but in a different way from hers. Her own was seeping with the red left behind from government officials, generals, fellow spies, civilians even; all unwanted by the Red Room.  
>But this creature's ledger was gushing with the red, gold and black of foreign species, all while doing it's duty to protect the innocent.<p>

She still did not dare move a muscle, her chest heaving slightly as a blur of white and grey flurried through the air like snow. But it wasn't snow. It was dust and ash. The sky above was blue, cloudless, beautiful. The street she stood in had been completely torn apart, a remainder of the carnage the great beast carried with it.

It was close enough that she could see it's eyes now. They were green-brown, flecks of another color rippling throughout it's irises.  
>Red. The color of that machine.<br>The machine's only quest was to bring terror and war to the planet, and in the end have it destroyed for his own bidding of 'peace and prosperity'. She knew that was a lie.

With another thud the creature got even closer. She could see the sweaty pores on it's green face, the matted black hairs erupting from it's scalp to form a mop of slightly curly, dirty black hair. For a split moment the red overtook the green, but the creature didn't move. It didn't flinch, it didn't growl in resentment of the pain rattling around in it's head. She wished she had that much resilience. For a moment the two stood staring at each other, but the only thing she could look at were it's eyes. Every moment they would flicker and flash red, but in the end they would return to their hazel green state.

The silence was suddenly broken as the creature turned away quickly and began to grip the sides of it's head. Before it turned away she could catch sight of the corner of it's eye. It's red eye.

The beast groaned and growled, wailing deep in it's chest.  
>But when it turned around again it's eyes were brown. The brown of her friend, the gentle biologist. The calm, deceitful, <em>gentle <em>eyes of the shy scientist who lived in the same building as her, whom she talked to and a shared a coffee with every morning, who would always offer himself up to help. They were the calming brown eyes that she sort of liked, even in an older guy. They were the eyes of a _man. _  
>The creature reached out with a shaking hand. She was surprised by the fact it's arm was shaking, the creature was usually strong, fearless. The only disturbance was a a loud sigh the creature let out as the callused green palm met the side of her face. She felt strange, as if a child being criticized, but also calm. She still didn't move though. Again the creature sighed, but this time it seemed tired, helpless. Her short red curls bounced slightly with the small breeze caused by the beast's heavy breathing.<p>

But then the creature took it's hand away, and stood back. It's face became a black slate, and it became stock still. It raised a great arm above it's head as if to swat a fly away. She could feel her heart thudding in her chest. She could hear her labored, fearful breathing.

And when she looked up she became terrified once again. For her eyes had met not the brown eyes of the man.

The cold, heartless red eyes of the machine.


End file.
